


Illicit Affairs

by celine_cooperjones



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Adultery, Based on a Taylor Swift Song, F/M, FP and Alice are meant to be
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:48:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25554598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celine_cooperjones/pseuds/celine_cooperjones
Summary: And that’s the thing about illicit affairsAnd clandestine meetings and stolen staresThey show their truth one single timeBut they lie and they lie and they lieA million little times
Relationships: Alice Cooper/FP Jones II
Comments: 1
Kudos: 7





	Illicit Affairs

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Taylor Swift’s song of the same name.

She’s always careful when she leaves his place. Her head down, her purse over her face to hide her identity. And for the most part, she gets away with it, no one really takes a second glance at the woman leaving FP Jones trailer in a hushed manner. That’s the good thing about Southsiders. They mind their business. 

She’s only been caught once coming home in the early hours of the morning, and it was by Misty Mulroney, a middle aged woman who lives down the street from she and Hal. The people of Elm Street like to know everything about one another, so when Alice noticed the woman she immediately clenched her jaw, preparing herself for the slew of questions inevitably coming her way and praying that she’d have answers. 

When Misty asked where she just came home from, Alice had lied and told her she went for an early morning jog. After all, it wasn’t such a far fetched thing to believe, her cheeks and skin are always flushed when she leaves FP, her skin clammy from being wrapped up in his arms the entire time, her hair messy and falling out of a ponytail. Misty had praised her for having the mercy and motivation to go jogging so early in the morning, and Alice had forced out a smile before ducking into her house and into the shower to wash any scent of FP’s skin off of her body. 

It started out innocent enough, just two old friends reminiscing on the good ole days. It was never meant to be anything more, but then there was that one day, where she was so utterly fed up with her Northside facade, that she found herself inviting FP to a hotel room at the Five Seasons without second thought. She told herself it was just so they could talk more comfortable, catch up in peace and quiet. But she abandoned that lie quickly, once her lips brushed his for the first time in far too long. 

It became a regular thing, meeting in the penthouse suite every Thursday afternoon on her lunch break. But when they became more desperate for one another, barely able to go a few days, let alone a week without seeing one another, they opted for abandoned or empty parking lots where they slip into the backseat and just get lost in one another for a while. 

She’s not proud of it. She knows it’s wrong. Hal’s given her everything she could ever ask for. He’s given her a beautiful home, an incredible job, stability and a safety net. But FP makes her feel alive. Makes her feel like every bone in her body is made of silly putty. The way he touches her, and kisses her, lights a fire in her body that she never knew existed. Perhaps it’s the thrill, or maybe the familiarity of teenage romance gone sour, all she knows is that with him, she doesn’t feel like Alice Cooper, perfect, picturesque, ice queen of the Northside. For the short period of time she’s with him, she’s Alice Smith, the wild, curly haired blonde from the wrong side of the tracks, who was still trying to figure things out. 

She has to catch herself from slipping sometimes, from putting too much effort into him, into their affair. She can’t leave any trace behind, just goes to him to relieve tension and gain pure, unadulterated pleasure. That’s all it is. Just sex. 

But then there’s that reminder in her bathroom cabinet, a perfume she bought because she thought he’d like it. Oh and he had. After yet another passion filled meeting, when she slipped out of the hotel room as if she’d never been there, he slept peacefully in the wrinkled sheets, because they smelled of her perfume, smelled like her skin, and he wanted to drown in it. 

It was so much easier in the beginning, when they could pretend that they were just seeking out pleasure from a familiar place. That part of their relationship had always been good when they were younger. So what if communication took a backseat to passion? 

But eventually, that wore off, and they had to admit to themselves that this thing between them had become more than either intended. It wasn’t just about mind numbing sensations and searing kisses anymore, now it was an addiction. Something they’d risk everything for, status, respectability, it all went out the window because nothing felt as good and as right as being with one another did. 

He got used to her saying it was the last time. She said it every time. But she always called again, asking him to meet her somewhere. People would call him pathetic if they knew that, if they knew that he came running back to her like a lost little puppy every time. But he’s been around long enough, witnessed enough of other people’s relationships, to know not to let go. So what if she wasn’t ready to dive in fully with him. She has always had farther to fall then him. If he were to drop everything and be with her, his life would remain practically unchanged. If she dropped everything, she’d lose her husband, her home, her job, her respectability, her reputation. He can’t ask that of her, even if it kills him to watch her walk out the door every time. 

She never usually has too big of a problem when she leaves him. Sure it’s a little disappointing, she loves spending time with him, but once she leaves him, she slips right back into Northside Alice. Perfect, straight laced, Alice, with the perfect husband and perfect house in a perfect neighbourhood. But lately it feels like she’s suffocating. Every time she turns onto her street she feels like screaming, feels like abandoning everything and running back to him, curling herself in his arms and asking him to hold her for the rest of her life. 

She’s a mess, and Hal seems to agree with that statement when she sits him down with tears in her eyes and tells him everything. He reminds her of everything she’s giving up, offers to just pretend she never said anything, and their lives can continue unchanged. They can still be the perfect couple. 

And she knows it’s foolish, knows she should take him up on the offer, but she doesn’t. Instead, she packs her bags in silence, gives Hal one last glance, and closes the door on the perfect chapter of her life. News will break soon, people will be whispering about her, will be consoling Hal, the neighbours will probably bring freshly baked muffins to the house and offer to be there for whatever he needs. 

And for once, she can’t bring herself to care. Which makes the looks on FP’s face even more priceless when he opens his front door and sees her, and then sees the luggage behind her. 

“Hi.” She whispers, cheeks blushing like a schoolgirl. 

She doesn’t need to explain, he knows her, as if they have some secret language only the two of them speak. He doesn’t even say a word, just smiles that beautifully crooked smile of his that she loves so much, and steps aside. He knows it’s going to be hell the next few weeks, possibly months, and she knows it too. But she also knows that with him, it’s worth it. She’d give up everything for him, because this right here, with him, is perfection.


End file.
